


Back To Me

by haatorii



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Actor Dean Winchester, M/M, Screenwriter Castiel, a warning y'all, dean and cas doesn't end up together, i don't know how screenwriters work, i read a few things, just a few things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 05:52:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18404435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haatorii/pseuds/haatorii
Summary: Castiel is a screenwriter waiting for Dean to come home.





	Back To Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hello guys, another Destiel for y'all. I got bored two weeks ago and I desperately wanted to write so bad but nothing's coming up. But there's nothing a few sad songs can't fix.
> 
> Still, this work is unbeta'd and I claim all the mistakes as English is not my first language. If you see any grammatical errors or whatever, please tell me. Thank you so much /kisses

“Oh, there you are Castiel. Here’s yours.”

“Thank you, Mary. What’s this for?”

“For Dean’s wedding! Can you believe it? My boy’s getting married!”

_What?_

_When?_

_He said—_

_Why?_

Mary’s smile was so bright and she looked so happy Castiel didn’t have the courage to tell her the single statement that’s running around his mind, _He asked me to wait for him._

He tried so hard to hide the sadness from his voice, he really did, but when the words “Uh, w-when’s the wedding?” escaped through his mouth, his knees trembled so slightly and the tears stinging his eyes.

"Honey, are you okay?" Mary asked. Of course, she would.

“Yes, I-I’m fine,” he said, “When’s the wedding?” Castiel repeated.

“It’s on the 30th of November,” Mary replied, “Are you sure you’re okay? You look like you’re gonna be sick,” then as if remembering something, she gasped, “Oh my god, honey, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine, Mary. We haven’t seen each other in almost a year. Trust me, it’s fine.”

Mary looked at him with a troubled face. It’s not her fault, but it was as if she’s the one who left Castiel all alone instead of her son.

With a firm hug and a whisper of assurance in his ear, Mary went on her way. Suddenly he was tired. More exhausted than the time they shoot for almost two days with hardly any breaks. He wanted to sleep for a long time.

Castiel shut the door and placed the invitation on his coffee table and went upstairs, the light from his computer illuminating his otherwise dark home. It was already 8:00 in the evening. He hardly noticed the time. He could finish the script he's working on later or the next day. He's ahead of schedule, and even if he takes a three-day break, he could still send in the script with a few days left before the deadline.

He didn’t bother changing his clothes, he was never anywhere so it’s okay. He tucked himself in and turned on the small radio inside his room for a bit of background noise. He’d been alone for most of his adult life, but this was the first time he felt truly alone.

A whimper by the door caught his attention. He whistled and Juliet immediately climbed his bed and propped her head on Castiel’s hip. It made him smile a little. He closed his eyes and let the faint music from the radio lull him to sleep.

 

He woke up the next day at 6 in the morning with his head pounding from too much sleep. Sometimes you really can’t win with your body. You sleep for a few hours you get headaches, you sleep in you get headaches. He saw the invitation once more on his way to the kitchen. He ignored it once more to grab a glass of water.

He could not eat but he couldn’t let an innocent being starve just because he felt… he felt whatever he’s feeling inside, so he grabbed Juliet’s food bowl and filled it with food to the brim. He also filled her water bowl. When everything’s done, he went back to the living room to retrieve the invitation and his laptop. Might as well finish his script instead of drowning himself in self-pity.

He plopped down his bed. Juliet, still feeling her master’s distress, snuggled his thigh.

"I'm okay, Juliet," Castiel assured his companion as he scratch under her ears. Neither did she knew that looking at her adds the pain Castiel felt inside.

He worked until his 8-hour self-imposed limit was up. He forgot to eat again. When was the last time he ate something? Probably yesterday. He had to eat. Dean would scold him again if he skipped another day without eating anything. _Oh_. He forgot again. Dean won’t be calling anytime soon. He hasn’t called in about 5 months, and he’s getting married so he shouldn’t expect any phone calls from him.

For the first time in a long, long time, Castiel cried.

It hurt. It hurt more than that time he got beaten up in high school. More than that time he had a terrible migraine attack during a meeting with movie executives. More than that time he accidentally sliced his palm open with a goddamn can opener. He couldn’t stop crying.

He pushed his laptop away from him and lied down. He let his tears flow and flow, and along with it his sorrow, longing, and all the things he couldn’t bring into words. Did he do something wrong? Was he supposed to do something? He had set him free, to follow his dreams, Castiel never tied him down, they respected each other’s spaces, each other’s ambitions. Was that wrong? Should he have followed him so they could achieve their dreams together? Was it wrong to stay and do my best here? Maybe if he were more ambitious Dean wouldn’t have left him.

It wasn’t the first time Castiel cried himself to sleep, but it was the worst reason by far.

 

When Castiel woke up the next day, he received two messages from his agent and an email from his producer friend asking about his script. It wasn’t finished, he’s yet to do a couple of scenes and a few more tweaks, so he told his agent and producer exactly that and worked again. A day was enough to grieve the love he had lost and the life he could’ve had. If it’s not enough, then he could continue after he’s done with the script. And so he worked. He worked until he couldn’t anymore. He worked until he’s popping antacids in his mouth to ease the pain in his stomach. He only took breaks to give Juliet her daily walk, food, and water.

A week has passed since he received the invitation from Mary but he hasn’t opened it yet. Yesterday, he sent the script to his agent but he hasn’t heard anything about it yet. She called this morning to tell him she read it and that it looked promising. He said he was glad and he hoped the executives would like it too.

The invitation still sat at the bottom corner of his bed. He purposely avoided his bedroom for the whole time he was working because of it. He couldn’t afford another emotional breakdown when he’s in the middle of work. So the little time he spent sleeping, he took on the couch. Juliet was still happy to accompany him downstairs.

He couldn’t quite open it yet so he dusted his house and tended his garden. When he was done, he cleaned his kitchen and bathroom. Only after he was done doing his laundry, late at night and he had nothing to do anymore, he opened the invitation. It was beautiful and extremely fancy. It looked meticulously planned. He shouldn’t expect less from Dean.

The name beside Dean’s was not familiar. He must’ve met Morgan in the set or somewhere he frequents. He wondered where he met Morgan. In a bar? A grocery store? His neighbour? Morgan could be his neighbour, that's how he and Dean met after all. It still hurt. Not as much as the day Mary gave the invitation but it still hurt badly. Sam was Dean’s Best Man. Of course. Dean was dead set to it since they were teenagers. Bobby was in the list, so was Ash, Victor, Pam, and a couple of Dean’s acting buddy that he met a couple of years back.

When he was done reading the names of the people he assumed were in the entertainment industry, as he’d read a few names he was familiar with that were and are big in the business, he neatly tied the twine and placed it back on the coffee table downstairs. The wedding’s in less than two weeks.

 

 

Castiel picked the farthest pew, the one reserved for the media, and sat down. He looked around and surely, everything was beautiful and grand. Dean always pushed for greatness, and he always worked hard to achieve it. He deserved every bit of everything and more.

The ceremony was short but sweet and Castiel couldn’t help but be a little jealous for Morgan who was gorgeous in her simple white dress. She looked happy. Dean looked happy. He saw Mary with Sam, oh how Sam has grown. Sam never knew their ‘affair’, only Mary and the both of them, and he wondered if Dean ever planned on telling Sam about them. His chest aches for him.

Castiel loved him, and yet he betrayed him. But he couldn’t hate him. They’ve never been really ‘together’ after all. Dean asked to wait for him, just until he could prove himself to… himself, really. He didn't need to prove anything to his mom, to Sam, to Castiel. He was already perfect; a loving son, brother, and compassionate human being who always dreamed big and pushed himself to achieve it.

 

He was almost out the door when someone tapped him on the shoulders, “Hey, Cas,” Sam said.

“Hello, Sam.”

“We’re so glad you came!” He said and wrapped his arms around Castiel. He hugged him back. “Wait here, I’m gonna call, Dean."

“No need for it, Sam. I-I’m already on my way out, actually.” He said.

“Why so fast, Cas? Don’t you wanna go to the reception?”

He considered telling the truth, to get this over with. Maybe if he told the truth Sam would leave him alone or something, but in the end, he couldn't do it. He couldn't destroy Sam's outlook of his brother. "There's… There's a meeting I have to attend with my agent in about 45 minutes and I'm meeting her downtown." He explained. "I would love to but it's really wrong timing." He did his best make a sorry face to make it more believable.

“Oh, okay. I’ll just tell mom and Dean you attended the ceremony.”

He took it, great.

“Well then,” he hugged Sam tight, it might be the last time he’ll ever see Sam. “I have to get going now.”

“See you around, Cas. Don’t be a stranger.”

“I won’t. Bye.”

And he walked on, saying goodbye to the family he longed to have. To life, he longed to live. To the person, he longed to be with.


End file.
